


Dor X Dorian - Dragon Age: Inquisition

by Fawnsummer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Eventual Romance, Gay, M/M, Original Character(s), Pansexual Character, Queer Character, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:09:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26373241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawnsummer/pseuds/Fawnsummer
Summary: Drabbles of a slow burn romance between the enigmatic Dorian Pavus and my male Trevelyan who is also called Dorian...Note: As they share the same first name, I will (mostly) refer to my Dorian as Trevelyan.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Kudos: 3





	1. Lazarus

_Accidents, will I make it in the end? Lazarus, can you raise me from the dead?_  


_~ Lazarus, Alec Beretz ~_

~~~~~~

**Skyhold**

Dorian Trevelyan’s quarters were large and surprisingly well kept considering the disrepair of the rest of the Skyhold fortress, not that he had noticed as he walked straight through and out onto the balcony, the icy air prickling his face as he breathed it in, down and deep in an attempt to calm himself. He’d had to get away from everyone, away from the attention and so many eyes on him. The pain in his hand and wrist made it hard for him to string coherent thoughts together, nevermind words, and it wasn’t fair to those who expected him to say the right thing, reassure them that everything was going to be alright, even if he wasn’t sure it would be. 

The anchor glowed dimly in the centre of his palm as he carefully examined the angry red bruising around his wrist and forearm from the elder one’s terrible grip. Somehow that hurt more than almost dying in the snow. It could have gone so much worse, he knew that. He had been prepared to die and yet here he was, staring unseeing at the snow-capped, frostback mountains, trying not to lose it altogether.

_Just breathe, Trevelyan._

He sighed, and his breath; visible in the night’s frigid air reminded him of snow that fell so heavily it buried everything in its path, and howling wolves that sounded too near but were nowhere to be found. He recalled how afraid he was that he’d likely caused the deaths of an entire town and retinue. Then suddenly; they appeared out of the snowdrifts - running towards him like he mattered. They seemed relieved to find him as they hauled him towards a blazing fire and safety but Trevelyan couldn’t stop himself from wondering if they really cared. Were they his friends? Did they care about him for him and not just for what he could do? What he symbolised?

_Did it even really matter?_

He could have died and then what? Chaos would prevail and they’d have to find another way to close the breach. It would take time but they could do it. There were enough powerful mages to help.

‘Are you alright, Inquisitor?”

Trevelyan turned to find the newly recruited Tevinter mage Dorian Pavus standing in the doorway. He blinked at him, words alluding him once again.

Pavus shivered. “Bloody freezing out here, come inside,” he said before disappearing back inside the room.

Trevelyan stared after him, mentally shaking himself. He didn't feel ready to engage with anyone yet but the mage didn’t appear to be leaving him much choice. Maybe he could ask him to leave? Would that be rude?

Inside his quarters, Pavus was standing in front of Trevelyan’s desk pouring a brown liquid into two glasses. “You look like you could use a drink,” he said over his shoulder.

"I do?" Trevelyan tentatively approached him, absently rubbing his wrist.

Pavus handed him a full glass of something that smelled strongly of dried fruit and rubbing alcohol. “Does it hurt?” He nodded towards Trevelyan’s hand where the sleeve of his jacket had ridden up to reveal the harsh marks he’d received just before Haven fell.

“What?” Trevelyan took a sip, it was brandy, thick and syrupy, and he welcomed the pleasant burn as it slid down his throat. “Oh, not always.”

The mage nodded, taking a sip of his own drink. “But it does today?” 

Trevelyan sighed, there was no use hiding it. “Yes, today it hurts.”

_To an almost unbearable level and I want to be left alone with it. ___

__Dorian’s expression was unreadable as he tipped his own glass back and drank and Trevelyan suddenly felt bad for mentioning it. He should have lied and told him it was fine but he knew he needed the Inquisition’s trust if he was going to get through this._ _

__Thankfully, Dorian seemed to sense Trevelyan’s discomfort. “I saw the coronation and wanted to check you’re alright.” Pavus set his glass on the desk and folded his arms. “I know you haven’t had much time to process what happened in Haven.”_ _

__Trevelyan stared into his glass to avoid Dorian’s enquiring gaze. “Well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m fine.”_ _

__“You look a little grey.”_ _

__Trevelyan looked away and drank, sinking the rest of the sweet liquid in one swift gulp._ _

__“Steady on! I’ll have to carry you to bed if you keep that up!”_ _

__Flushing at the mention of his bed, Trevelyan stepped forward to set his empty glass on the desk. The mage’s charm and good looks weren’t totally lost on him despite his current predicament. “I said I’m fine, didn’t I?”_ _

__Pavus sighed and straightened, smoothing the front of his breeches. “Right. Well, now that I’ve checked on you, I’ll leave you to your evening. Goodnight, Inquisitor.”_ _

__Over his shoulder, Trevelyan watched the retreating mage’s form and grimaced. “Wait.”_ _

__Pavus stopped and turned to face the Inquisitor. As he regarded him with curious eyes, Trevelyan couldn't help but notice how the fire in the hearth danced in them, strange and hypnotic._ _

__“Yes, Inquisitor?”_ _

__Trevelyan tried to smile but it felt forced and the way Pavus’ lip twitched beneath his immaculately groomed moustache revealed that he knew it too. This was harder than it should be and he couldn’t stop feeling that despite all the rallying and careful graces around him, he felt utterly alone and afraid and needed to hide it from everyone, especially this mage who looked at him with more kindness than he deserved._ _

__“Thank you, Pavus.”_ _

__The mage chuckled, clicking his tongue in a way that Trevelyan was sure he usually did to pass judgement. “Please call me Dorian.”_ _

__Trevelyan laughed. “I’d say you can call me Dorian too but that might make things difficult.”_ _

__Pavus’ eyebrows shot up. “Your first name is Dorian too?”_ _

__Trevelyan nodded. “You don’t have to say it, I know there’s only room for one Dorian in this camp.”_ _

__Pavus laughed heartily, a gorgeous, lush sound that went straight to Trevelyan’s knees. “You learn fast, Inquisitor and on that note, I’ll take my leave.” He bowed deeply. “Goodnight, Dorian.”_ _

__“Goodnight.” For the first time in too long, Trevelyan’s smile was genuine as he watched the altus mage of Tevinter disappear down the steps. Maybe one day he would forgive himself for what happened at Haven, if he thought that maybe someone like Pavus could find it in his heart to forgive him._ _


	2. The Seer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting there...

_In the tower above the earth, there is a view that reaches far_

_Where we see the universe, I see the fire_

_I see the end_

_~ The Seer’s Tower, Sufjan Stevens ~_

~~~~~~ 

**The Storm Coast**

It was their third night on the Storm Coast and Dorian Trevelyan had been pleased to discover the Inquisition’s camp was close to the sea, but even the soothing sound of the waves wasn’t enough to relax him. Every night was the same; restless and far too long for one prone to overthink, especially when it’s quiet. Trevelyan had to keep moving, distract himself from his fitful thoughts so while the rest of the Inquisition slept, Trevelyan headed down to the beach for a night swim.

With the bandits that had inhabited the beach cleared on the first day, he was alone as he slid out of his clothes and carefully tucked his dagger beneath them. The stones beneath his bare feet were cold but that was nothing compared to the water itself but Trevelyan pushed through the dark water with his jaw clenched until he was waist deep and dove beneath its choppy surface. He hadn’t asked the Iron Bull what manner of creatures lurk beneath these waters so to be safe, he kept close to the shore, stretching his long body out on his back, the only sounds his breath, the waves crashing against the rocks and the cry of a distant dragon. With every minute that trickled by, Trevelyan’s mind began to empty; thoughts poured out like sand until it was just him and the saltwater keeping him afloat and the stars. Squinting up at them, he spotted the constellation _Servani;_ the cluster of stars took the shape of a man dragging a heavy chain behind him, so they say. He felt a buzzing sensation in the palm of his left hand, right where the anchor was but he ignored it, it did that so often and it almost always meant nothing sinister. Besides, this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time, he didn’t want to think about the mark, or rifts or Corypheus while he was out here.

Then he heard it; the horrible, seething, _gasping_ sound of darkspawn. The anchor burned and Trevelyan couldn’t ignore it any longer. Sinking down so the water level reached his eyes, he scanned the beach, grateful for the waxing moon light so that he could remain hidden but still see along the cliffs and the path that led back to camp. That’s where they were; three demons converging at the base of the path close to where he left his belongings. The last thing Trevelyan wanted was for the Inquisition to be woken up by demons and come down to the beach to investigate and find him swimming alone. He’d already been reprimanded by Cassandra for sneaking around at night unarmed and without telling anyone where he was going. He knows it's because she cares but he also knows the anchor on his hand is priceless to their cause.

“For fucks’ sake” he muttered as he swam to the shore. As soon as he regained footing on the seafloor, he picked up a rock in each hand and threw them towards the demons as hard as he could. One crashed between the eyes of a shade while the other knocked a terror’s spindly legs out from under it, buying him just enough time to run and grab his dagger.

Trevelyan made quick work of the demons, fuelled a little by the power of the anchor but mostly by the fury of having his peace disturbed by more darkspawn bullshit. With a final thunderous bellow, he sent the last one back to the hellscape it had come from and the beach was silent once more, safe for his breath; harsh and ragged. His chest burned and looking down he noticed a long gash from collarbone to sternum and cursed again; if Cassandra didn't kill him for this, then maybe the Maker would. Not that he believed, at least he thought he didn't. Maybe that had changed, he didn't know anymore. 

“Well, well, well. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Trevelyan turned to the direction of the voice to find Dorian Pavus standing at the bottom of the path in his nightclothes, staff in hand. The mage regarded the blood-splattered pebbles before turning his attention to Trevelyan. “It seems I missed the fun, _again._ ”

Trevelyan rolled his eyes. “Dorian, if I’d known you wanted to fight demons at midnight I would’ve come and gotten you.”

“I don’t mean that.” Dorian stepped closer, the glow of his staff soft between them. “I meant the midnight skinny dipping.”

Trevelyan hoped the light from the staff was strong enough to hide the blush that was racing up his chest and neck at an alarming rate and he dared not look Pavus in the eye, for that would only make it worse.

“That too.” He stammered.

Dorian closed the gap between them and it was then that Trevelyan realised he wasn’t looking at his body in the way he thought or hoped he was, but his attention was on the gash on his chest.

“That looks nasty.”

“It’s fine.”

Pavus snorted. “Even when you’re full of holes and covered in darkspawn blood, you’ll always be “fine” won’t you, Trevelyan.”

He was about to protest when Dorian hovered his outstretched palm over the wound. A blue light emanated from his palm and Trevelyan felt an icy coolness brush over his skin, instantly dissipating the fever that had begun to warm his already too hot skin. The wound suddenly felt intensely painful and he cried out, hissing through his teeth as the skin tightened as though being pulled taut, then he felt nothing at all. When he looked down, the wound was healed.

“There.” Pavus said, his voice tender. ‘Better?”

“Much.” Trevelyan croaked out, touching the place where the demon’s talon’s had torn through skin and muscle minutes before. “Thank you.”

“It shouldn't leave a scar either, I made sure of that. Wouldn’t want that lovely, pale skin of yours marred by those dreadful creatures.”

Dorian was still standing close enough that Trevelyan could feel his breath. This man was starting to have the kind of hold on him that was both hypnotic and dangerous, like staring into flames for too long. It had sparked the moment Pavus came to see he was alright the night they arrived in Skyhold and it had gradually smouldered, both of them tending to the little flame with every look and flirtatious remark and now, as Trevelyan stood as vulnerable as he was ever prepared to be, he wondered if the kindling was finally going to take.

‘Well, my work here is done—“ 

Pavus turned to head back up the path but feeling bold, Trevelyan stopped him. “What about that skinny dip? I still have to wash off the blood.”

Pavus’ expression almost made him reach for the mage once and for all. 

“Oh Inquisitor, how you never fail to surprise me.” He winked.


End file.
